


cherry bomb

by FireFaceOutlook



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Cherryberry - Freeform, M/M, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook
Summary: Comic Sans chuckled.  “*it'd be awkward for us to refer to each other as 'sans' when that's our names, too.  do you mind if i just call ya 'blueberry'?”“only if i get to give you a nickname, too!”“*sure, lay it on me.”





	1. berry nice to meet you

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Before we begin, some semi-important notes: I made Underswap!Sans speak in lowercase because he's a Sans, and so his font is… _Sans_. I just wanted to try it out. And when he gets excited (or when he's in front of Papyrus and his friends (i.e. Alphys and Chara)), he goes all caps. And as for the asterisks you'll see in front of Underfell!Sans' words, I guess my thoughts were, besides making it easier to tell who was speaking between the two Sanses, that it'd be an accent thing.**

When Sans stepped out of the restaurant, the clouds in the sky broke open with a clap of thunder, releasing bucketfuls of rainwater. It reflected Sans' mood pretty accurately, his clothes soaking through, chilling him _to the bone_. He thought he'd made a pretty good impression with his potential datemate this time, but seeing as they hadn't shown up to their scheduled date, he supposed that was just wishful thinking on his part. He dug his phone out of his pocket, seeing a few 'good luck' texts from Papyrus, and he sighed. He decided to walk home instead of asking his brother for a ride – hopefully he'd have all the tears out by the time he got back and he could pretend the date went fine.

It only got darker the longer he walked. He had a great sense of direction, but with few other people out on such a dreary evening and no vehicles on the road, it was a little off-putting – like he was in one of those dystopian books Chara liked to read. That feeling lasted until the sound of an engine broke through the pattering of raindrops, gaining volume as it drew near, and he tensed slightly, half-expecting to be driven past and splashed with water like one of those sad scenes in a movie. Instead, the engine puttered into a purr as the vehicle slowed on the road behind him.

“*hey.”

His steps faltered, but the person could be calling to any of the… two people also trekking in the rain (on the other side of the road), so he kept walking, crossing his arms in hopes of preserving warmth.

“*i'm talkin' to _you_ , blueberry.”

Oh, that was definitely towards him. He glanced over and found another skeleton monster on a motorcycle, his surprise mirrored on their face.

“*uh… hi,” the driver said, looking like he hadn't expected Sans actually to stop. He was clad in shorts, lace-less sneakers, and a thick jacket with a fur-lined hood – and he was just as soaked as Sans. “* _water_ you doin' out in the rain? bit of a _pour_ decision, don't ya think?”

Sans wasn't even in the mood to defend against the puns being tossed his way, shivering slightly as water trickled across his ribs.

“it's fine. i'm heading home. i… had a bad date, and i wanted to get all the sad out of my system so my brother won't worry.”

The other monster's brow raised at the influx of information, and Sans realized that he had red tinted eye lights instead of white, something he'd never seen before. “*sorry, pal. i've had my fair share of sour dates; i know how much they suck.”

“what are _you_ doing out here?”

The skeleton offered a grin, revealing sharp fangs – one of which was _gold_. “*just takin' a joyride. i was actually headin' home, too, but i pulled over 'cause, well, you looked cold and miserable, and i figured i could offer you a ride...?” He actually looked a little nervous, sinking into his jacket. “*i promise i'm not tryin' to dust ya or anythin'.”

Sans was startled by his words. “why would I think that?”

“*well, i'm from _underfell_.”

'Underfell' was the term for the second layer of the Underground, only discovered after monsterkind was freed. Apparently, a section of the monster army from the Human-Monster War was separated from the main group and trapped underground long before the war even ended, in a hollow below the Underground that Sans grew up in. They had worse conditions, causing the monsters to grow somewhat feral and turn against one another to survive. Their barrier was broken by a human named Frisk, who fell into their section of the underground somehow, at the same time that everyone Sans knew was freed by Chara.

“i've never met a monster from underfell before,” Sans admitted – though it _did_ explain the other's eyes and teeth. “but we're all monsters, so we have to stick together, right?”

“*… you're a strange guy, but i like yer thinkin'. i'm comic, comic sans.”

Sans' eye lights turned into stars. “ _MY_ NAME IS SANS! SANS SERIF!”

Comic Sans seemed a little taken aback by Sans' sudden enthusiasm. “*heh, small world, i guess. here, hop on; let's get ya home.”

As Sans situated himself on the motorcycle, locking his arms securely around Comic Sans' waist, he came to a startling discovery: “you're freezing!”

At the same time, Comic Sans muttered, “*stars, kid, you're like a furnace.”

“i am _not_ a kid!”

“ _*sure._ ”

  


By the time they reached Sans' home, they'd had a thorough argument about their ages, which mostly consisted of Comic Sans insisting, “*you are _not_ older than me!” and Sans proudly claiming, “by two whole months!”

“*this yer place?” Comic Sans asked, pulling over in front of the cozy-looking, two-story house.

“yep!” Sans hopped off the motorcycle, spinning to face his new friend. “thank you for the ride, sans!”

Comic Sans chuckled. “*it'd be awkward for us to refer to each other as 'sans' when that's our names, too. do you mind if i just call ya 'blueberry'?”

“only if i get to give you a nickname, too!”

“*sure, lay it on me.”

“hm...” The newly-dubbed Blueberry rubbed his chin thoughtfully, scrutinizing Comic Sans. “i think i'll call you… CHERRY! _mweh heh heh!_ ”

“*heh… guess i brought that upon myself.” Cherry tugged one of his sleeves up, revealing a watch with a broken face, but appeared to still be working. He released a low whistle through clenched teeth. “*it's later than i thought. i better get goin' 'fore my bro gets too worried.”

“oh, wait!” Blueberry dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, offering it to Cherry. “give me your number?”

The red-eyed skeleton looked genuinely surprised. “*what? why?”

“well, we're friends now, aren't we? i want to be able to hang out with you again!”

Cherry was pretty sure that wasn't how making friends worked, but he didn't want the kicked puppy look Blue had when he was walking alone in the rain to be turned on him, so he took the phone and added himself as a contact, labeling it _'cherrybomb'_. “*i gotta work most of the week, so i might not be able to answer 'til late.”

“that's fine!” Blue accepted his phone back, grinning. “i'll text you so you have my number too, so make sure to let me know you got home safe!”

Cherry saluted him with two fingers. “*see ya later, blue.”

He pulled away from the curb and drove off, disappearing into the night. It was then that Blue realized that it'd stopped raining. He turned and practically skipped to the house, letting himself in, sighing in relief as warmth sank into his bones. The door wasn't locked, meaning Papyrus was still up, so Blue wasn't surprised to find his brother slouched on the couch, watching tv.

“How was the date?” he asked without looking up.

Blue had almost forgotten about his botched date, but even the sudden reminder couldn't dampen his spirits. “IT WAS NEARLY AS MAGNIFICENT AS ME!”

Papyrus glanced over, taking in his soaked brother and the large grin on his face. He smiled back, relaxing further into the cushions. “That's great, bro. Why don't you go change into dry clothes? There's a couple good movies on tonight; we can watch them together, and I'll make hot cocoa.”

“OKAY.” Blue took the stairs two at a time, and shut his bedroom door behind him. He shot a quick text to Cherry before throwing on the galaxy-printed pajamas his brother had bought him once they'd gotten settled on the surface – consisting of a loose hoodie and sweatpants – and darting back downstairs to the theme of the first movie of the night.

  


As soon as Cherry walked through the door, his brother was obstructing his path.

“Where _Were_ You?” he demanded loudly.

Cherry winced, grinding the tip of his pinky into the side of his skull, as if clearing an ear he didn't have. “*stars, boss, inside voice, _please_.”

Needless to say, Papyrus wasn't happy with that reply, cuffing him upside the head – though, without the intent to harm, it didn't hurt. Still, Cherry rubbed his head to appease his brother. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, SANS!”

“*alright! i jus' ran into a... friend. i gave 'im a ride home, since it was rainin' so hard.”

Papyrus crossed his arms, scrutinizing the shorter skeleton as he peeled off his soaking sneakers, but he couldn't find any signs of deceit, so he simply sighed. “I See. Contact Me The Next Time You're Going To Be Late. And Strip.”

The last bit caused Cherry to double-take. “*wh-what?”

“You're Soaking Wet. Give Me Your Clothes – I Refuse To Let You Drip All Over The House.”

“*no!”

“SANS, GET OUT OF THOSE CLOTHES!”

Papyrus' hands landed on Cherry's shoulders before he could duck away and a brief scuffle later led to his waterlogged jacket and shirt being stripped away from him. He slapped away the reaching hands when they headed for his shorts.

“*hey, back off. i ain't a babybones!” He quickly shucked off his shorts and socks, tossing them into Papyrus' arms before shoving past him, clad in only his boxers and making a beeline for his room.

“Now Was That So Hard?”

Cherry shut his door, muffling his brother's grumbling, and shuffled over to his bed, flopping facedown onto it. An uncomfortably hard object dug into his sternum, half-buried under his pillow, and he dragged it out, discovering it was his phone. A message from an unknown number greeted him when he turned it on.

_**\- what's round and blue and berry glad to be friends with you? -** _

He snorted softly, saving the number under the name _'Berry Blue'_ , before sending, _**-** just got home, made it okay. **-**_

_**\- good! -**_ was the near-immediate reply. _**\- guess what my brother and i are doing? -**_

Cherry spent a good chunk of the night texting Blue, getting screenshots of the movie he was watching and sending back jokes or puns. He fell asleep in the middle of the conversation, and for once, he had a full, peaceful night's rest.


	2. routine - Cherry ver.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'BROTHER, I LEFT A GROCERY LIST IN YOUR JACKET. DON'T FORGET TO COLLECT WHAT I'VE REQUESTED BEFORE YOU COME HOME. LUNCH IS IN THE FRIDGE – DON'T WASTE YOUR GOLD AT GRILLBY'S!_  
>  _\- PAPYRUS'_  
>  Cherry dug a yellow post-it note out from the Counter Drawer of Miscellaneous Things and wrote _'ok,'_ sticking it under Papyrus'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: =) Hope you guys enjoy the surprise(s). Bet you never saw it coming.**   
>  **Also, miscellaneous fact for this AU #1: Grillby's is a bar/restaurant run by Grillby (Underswap!Grillby), who takes care of the restaurant section, and Chillby (Underfell!Grillby), who runs the bar portion. As the name implies, Grillby is the boss of the place, though _only_ in name; since the (Underswap) underground was liberated first, Grillby had his business set up before Underfell rejoined the surface.**

Cherry woke up every morning to the most annoying but effective alarm in existence: his brother's voice.

“SANS, BREAKFAST!”

He was absolutely exhausted, as had become the norm since monsterkind's freedom, and he wasn't sure if it was due to his late hours, too-early wake up call, or something else entirely. All he knew was that he needed five more minutes... or maybe the rest of the day. Of course, just as sleep was reaching out to embrace him again, Papyrus burst into his room, clad in a maroon apron that had 'Sarcasm: It's just one of my many talents' across the front in his namesake. It was an old birthday present Cherry had found for him when he had just started getting into cooking, while they were underground, and he always wore it when he was making meals. Cherry had offered to get him a new one when they were freed, but his brother had adamantly refused.

“*stars, pap, it's like three in the mornin',” he moaned, burying his face in his pillow to block out the hallway lights – he had blackout curtains covering his windows so he never had to wake to sunlight in his face.

“WRONG! It Is Seven Forty-Three, And If You Wish To Arrive To Work On Time, You Must Get Up And Shower _Right Now_.”

Papyrus rose every morning at four thirty sharp, and it was a rare occasion when he let Cherry sleep in.

“*you're the best, bro,” he conceded as the taller skeleton marched into his room and rifled through the contents of his dresser drawers.

“I Know.” As Cherry sat up and stretched, a turtleneck and shorts landed on his skull. “Don't Take Too Long In The Shower, Or The Food I Labored Over Will Grow Cold.”

Cherry gave a salute and took a shortcut to the bathroom, knowing how much it irritated his brother when he proved to be too lazy to even walk the short distance down the hall to where he needed to go. When he finished taking a shower – forgoing bleach because that made the process take much too long – and dressing, he shortcutted downstairs. Papyrus was already gone to officially start his day, and sitting in the middle of the table, where their cat, Doomfanger, wouldn't be tempted to knock it to the floor, was a plate of eggs and sausage. A pink post-it note was next to the food, and as Cherry shoveled the food through the veil of magic coating his fangs*, he read over it.

_'BROTHER, I LEFT A GROCERY LIST IN YOUR JACKET. DON'T FORGET TO COLLECT WHAT I'VE REQUESTED BEFORE YOU COME HOME. LUNCH IS IN THE FRIDGE – DON'T WASTE YOUR GOLD AT GRILLBY'S!_

_\- PAPYRUS'_

Cherry dug a yellow post-it note out from the Counter Drawer of Miscellaneous Things and wrote _'ok,'_ sticking it under Papyrus' before dumping his dishes into the sink and grabbing the paper bag from the fridge. He peered inside and found a couple sandwiches, a bottle of mustard, an apple juice box, and celery sticks. Heading for the door, he snagged his clean (for the first time in months) jacket, double-checked that the grocery list was actually in his pocket, and walked outside. He locked the house, jogged down the steps and through the door of his (daytime) workplace*: a quaint little bookstore-slash-café where he mostly spent his time stocking bookshelves with the newest shipments – though he was too short to reach top shelves, the manager turned a blind eye to his magic use as long as it was for work – and slept in odd places during his breaks, such as the cupboard full of creamer in the backroom of the café section.

Returning the wave Speir* offered from where she had her other five hands occupied with organizing the display case treats in a manner that was aesthetically pleasing, Cherry disappeared into the employee lounge. He hung his jacket up on one of the unoccupied wall hooks, exchanging it for a mint-green apron that let customers know that he was an employee. His phone buzzed from his jacket pocket, and when he pulled it out to check, a new text greeted him.

**_\- GOOD MORNING, CHERRY! -_ **

Blue's enthusiasm must've been contagious, even over the phone, because it startled a chuckle out of Cherry. He sent back a short reply – a simple, _**-** morning, **-**_ and returned his phone to where he'd retrieved it. A frazzled crackle in the air from behind him would've made him jump at one point, but now he just unfolds another apron and holds it out to the side. A red and gold-tipped phalange accepted it, another staticky yawn escaping the owner.

“*long night?” Cherry asked, glancing over as his co-worker hung their own jacket.

"gradi̶e̷nţ woul͢d̨n'͝t̛ st҉op c͘r͝y̡i͞ng͏ ̢u͜nt̵il ͢i ̛le҉t̢ him sl͡ęep͏ i͘n m̷y ͝bed͝," Error sighed, tying on his apron.

Error Lucida was an… _outlier_ , of sorts, and not just for his appearance. He claimed to be from Underfell, but no one (that Cherry talked to, anyway) seemed to be able to confirm or refute his words. He didn't like talking about himself, so even after almost a year of being friends – following months of skirting around each other as mere acquaintances –, Cherry only knew a handful of things about him: he was pixlexic, had an acute case of haphephobia on the best of days, and was the single father to a babybones by the name of Gradient.

“*sounds rough. i remember when pap would get sick as a babybones; he was pretty clingy, too.”

Error's permagrin always took on a bittersweet edge when Cherry talked about his brother; Cherry assumed that his friend had lost his family some time before their Underground was freed, but he knew better than to push for answers that weren't subtly offered up first.

“It's opening time!” Speir called from the front.

Cherry chuckled at the look of distaste on Error's face. For all that the other loved his job, he despised the qualified socialization that accompanied it.

“*come on. we best _book_ it out there 'fore we get in trouble.”

Error rolled his eye lights, _hard_ , but obligingly followed him out the door. “wo͠u͏l͡dn͢'͏t ̧w̧ant͡ ̷t̵o̴ _b̧ug_ ͜any̷one wi͜t͡ḩ o̧ur t̢ard͡i̢n̵ess̕,̸” he muttered under his breath, and Cherry choked on a laugh that had a suspicious spider monster glaring at them from across the room.

  


When their coworkers came to relieve them at four, Error decided to accompany Cherry to the store.

“gr͠ądie̷nt wil͠l̷ ͢w̢ant mor̷e͡ j͏u̶i̡c͠e ͡b̨ox͞es̨,͟” he claimed, then mumbled, “͏an̨d i h͏a̴ve ͜a p̧r͜e͠scriptioņ ͢t͘o pick ̨up̡.̛”͠

Cherry just nodded. The trek to the local grocer was quiet between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It appeared to be a slow day, because there weren't a lot of people milling about when they arrived. They traversed the aisles together, Cherry holding the crumpled shopping list against the cart handle and Error trailing just a step behind, occasionally putting miscellaneous objects into the child seat for himself, like Instant Noodles, Nice Cream, and the juice boxes he'd mentioned. When Cherry found the last item on the list, he followed Error to the pharmacy section, hanging back as his friend went to refill one of his prescriptions – Cherry wasn't going to pry, but he was sure it was either his seizure or anxiety meds.

As he waited, he checked his phone idly; Blue hadn't responded further, but there was a text from his brother, warning him to be careful while out and about, and to preserve his energy, _**-** INSTEAD OF WASTING IT ON YOUR LAZY SHORTCUTS! **-**_ Cherry scoffed fondly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket as Error returned, clutching his paper bag of medicine. Any joke Cherry had prepared to break the tension Error always carried after anything involving his medication died on his tongue when he realized just how nervous the other looked, holding the bag so tightly, it was tearing.

“*what's up?” he asked.

“̧i- ̕i forgot ̷i ̶ha͠d͢ ̢a t̷her̢ap͢y̢ ͟app͞o҉įntme̴nt̨ t͡od̢ay̧.͏ ̕ ͘i'v̢e ̴got to̶ b̴e͠ there̡ i͘n̛ t͟en ͟mi̴n̴u͡t͠e̡s.͠”̴ Cherry didn't understand why that was so bad – Error actually _liked_ the therapist this month – until the dark skeleton added, “̴i c͞a̢n̶'t dǫ ͏t̛h͜at͠ _a͘nd_ b͜e̸ ąb҉le͜ ͞to͞ ̕p̴ic̴k up̢ gra̷di̧en̕t.”

_oh._ Error wasn't a stickler for rules, but things like going to work, going to therapy, and taking his pills were an established routine, and any break in that schedule could set him off for weeks. Cherry barely even paused to consider it before saying, “*i can take him 'til yer finished.”

Cherry wasn't actually all that great with kids, as Frisk could attest, but he couldn't bring himself to regret his offer when Error went nearly, heh, _boneless_ with relief.

“̡if you're ̧su͟r͝e̶..͘.?”̢ When Cherry nodded, Error smiled. “̶tha͜n͡k͟ yo̸u.” He dug a handful of gold from his shorts, dumping it haphazardly on the box of Instant Noodles instead of passing it over like a normal person. ̴“fo͢r m̛y s͞tuf͟f͢. ͝i ͘owe you̡.̡”̸

“*no problem.”

After double-checking that Error actually knew where to collect his child later, they parted ways.

  


After shopping, Cherry made a quick pit-stop at his house to drop off the groceries so his hands weren't full when he picked up Gradient; he kept Error's bag looped around his wrist so he wouldn't forget it. He knew his brother wouldn't be home yet, but he still checked after tossing the fridge-and-freezer items where they belonged. He left another note under the one he'd written that morning, informing his brother that he might be a bit late getting home again. Leaving Gradient in Papyrus' care before work was always an option, but Error was, in a rare show of trust, leaving the care of his child to him, even if it would only be for a few hours, so he was Determined to take on the responsibility personally. Hopefully Chillby wouldn't mind; Grillby certainly wouldn't.

Waiting outside the school – of which he knew the location only because Frisk attended it – was nerve-wracking. He wasn't exactly “father material,” and from the suspicious glares cast towards him by parents and teachers alike, everyone knew it. As he sunk into his jacket, he really hoped Gradient recognized him. He could count the times they'd even _seen_ one another, much less exchanged words, on one hand. Error was a very private person, even to his small pool of friends.

“cherry?”

The sudden voice behind him nearly made him tumble into the Void; he was never very good at having people suddenly appear behind him, even if he had a habit of startling others the same way. Fortunately, he recognized the voice and was able to ground himself to reality, turning to see Blue approaching with a smile.

“hi! i didn't expect to run into you again so soon!”

Cherry grinned back weakly, hoping he wasn't sweating too much from his near-heart attack (not that he could suffer from one). “i'm just as surprised as you, blue. i'm just here to pick up a friend's kid.”

Stars reappeared in the other skeleton's eyes. “NO WAY! ME, TOO!”

Cherry's eye lights flickered briefly and he wondered if it was a bad sign that so many coincidences had popped up between them in the two days they'd known each other. Maybe it was actually a bad idea to become friends with this other Sans. Before his thoughts could spiral too far down the abyss, though, a blur of green, brown, and yellow streaked past and latched onto Blue, nearly knocking him off his feet.

The human clutching Blue's waist looked so similar to Frisk that Cherry did a doubletake. They had the same bob-hairstyle, though their hair was lighter than Frisk's, and their skin was paler. Their cheeks appeared perpetually pinkened and their eyes were as red as Cherry's magic. They were clad in a green-and-yellow striped shirt, tan shorts, and laceless sneakers.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, CHARA!” Blue greeted loudly, lifting them into the air in an impressive feat of strength; Cherry knew from experience that even as offspring, with all the organs and blood and skin, humans were _heavy_. “HOW WAS SCHOOL?”

A light tug on the corner of his jacket caught Cherry's attention, drawing him away from his blank staring – which he _knew_ was rude, he hated being stared at, too, _what was wrong with him today?_ – to meet the shadowed eyes of Gradient.

“*o-oh, hey, kiddo. didn't hear ya comin'.”

Gradient took after his father in almost every sense. He definitely got his looks from Error – dark bones, the unique eye lights, even pixlexia; the glaring differences were his green teeth and reflective blue “birthmarks,” Error called them, on his cheeks. Even their personalities were similar, though Gradient's shy demeanor and general unease around people was a fortunate downgrade from Error's own social anxiety and fear of physical contact. Gradient was wearing dark pants and a beige-and-black striped turtleneck under a blue-on-black jacket. Turquoise glasses rested on his nasal ridge.

“*i know you were expectin' yer dad–” If Cherry had to bite his tongue to keep himself from accidentally adding '-ster' to the end of that word, it was neither here nor there. “*–but he had an important appointment ta keep. so yer gonna be keepin' me company at work 'til he's done, 'kay?”

"͘Al҉rig͘h͝t,"͝ Gradient said simply, quietly – Cherry couldn't even tell if he was disappointed or not.

Sucking a deep breath between his fangs, he turned to face Blue, who was watching him with an amused quirk to his permagrin, and he felt inexplicably flustered. He knew all-too-well how painful it was to watch him interact with children. He just never knew what to do with them.

“so, chara,” Blue said, thankfully breaking the silence before it could get awkward, patting the human child on the head, “this is my friend, cherry! and...” He glanced at Cherry's charge-for-the-foreseeable-future.

“*ri- right. this is gradient,” he stammered, feeling the younger skeleton inch closer to him, hiding behind his baggy jacket.

“Nice to meet you,” Chara said kindly, smiling. For some reason, that expression set Cherry on edge, so much so that he stuffed his hands into his pockets, clenching them, _tightly_ , to cease the sudden trembling.

“*yeah... uh, listen, not that i wanna cut this short, but i hafta get ta work.”

“aw.” Cherry shove the guilt he felt at Blue's disappointed expression way deep down where he would hopefully never have to deal with it again. “okay. but we should hang out soon! i'll text you later!”

Cherry nodded, taking Gradient's hand, and with one last wave towards and from Blue, he led the babybones away. They walked in silence until the school was out of sight. 

“̶Ch͟ar̢a ̡i̵s s̴car̨y,̕”͘ Gradient whispered suddenly.

Cherry swallowed thickly, unhappy but unsurprised that his bad feeling towards them had been correct. Gradient and Error always seemed to know more about people than was on the soul-surface.

“*it's okay, kiddo. they...” _they scare me, too._ “*... they're harmless.”

Gradient looked doubtful, but Cherry didn't have it in him to persue the lie any further, so they lapsed back into an anxiety-tinged quiet until they arrived at Grillby's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Eyyyy, what do you guys think about the guest appearances?**  
>  **Also, this may or may not get confusing, so I'm going to lay out the font types for all the skeletons appearing (so far) in this story just in case:**  
>  _Cherry_ \- *speaks all lowercase, all the time, with the asterisk in front.  
>  _Blue_ – his normal font is all lowercase, BUT HE SPEAKS UPPERCASE WHEN HE'S AROUND HIS FRIENDS AND PAPYRUS, OR EXCITED.  
>  _Swap!Papyrus_ – He speaks like a completely normal person; he should be speaking UPPERCASE TOO, BUt, he just can't dredge up the will. Also, should his official nickname be “Stretch” like it usually is?  
>  _Fell!Papyrus_ – He Speaks Like This Normally (I Have Edited His Dialogue In The First Chapter, If You Read It Beforehand), But Sans (Or Excitement) Can Make Him SPEAK LIKE THIS! And He Needs An Official Nickname For This Story Because I Don't Want To Refer To Him As Edge Here.  
>  _Error Lucida_ – s̷i̡mpl̡e. ̢ h͏e͘ ̕s̛peaks͝ all͢ ͠low̢erc͡as͠e,̴ ͡all̨ ͡the t͠i͝me͏, b̷ut i̵ţ's ͝za̸lg͠o-̛d̷.  
>  _Gradient_ – S͢imple͝. ̨ ̛H͝e͏ ͡speaks like͟ a̧ c̢o̡m͠plet̵e̶l͝y nor̡m̶a͟l͏ p̨erson, bu͡t ͞it̵'s͞ Z̧algo̢-d͘.҉
> 
> ***This is referencing to the fact that Sans (Cherry in this case) is probably too lazy to open his mouth unless he absolutely has to. I figured there'd be a sort of veil that acted like his shortcuts, but without expending his magic, and the food would pass through the veil and to the other side of his teeth, where it would then dissolve into magic that is sent directly to his soul.**   
>  ***I'm hoping to include plenty casual shortcuts without explicitly stating it.**   
>  ***Speir D. Spider = Underfell!Muffet**
> 
> **Also, Gradient is like 4-6 years of age, and I'm having it that monster aging is weird, and their minds usually mature faster than their bodies, so...**

**Author's Note:**

> _prompt: Person A gets stood up on a Friday night and now has to walk home in the rain but is stopped by Person B riding a motorcycle who offers Person A a ride home. Person A obliges and eventually Person B and Person A start to hang out, then they fall in love._


End file.
